Most roads of life
are not wondrous
they impede and obstruct
never lead to the oasis
of the heart
while longing
is left bereft
panting and weeping
it falls apart-

how deceptive
was the journey's start
the world teemed then
with beauty and promise
youth didn't hesitate
nor need to regard
dreams were born
to decay and perish
with nothing to celebrate--

how love did tremble!
how bitter were its tears!
how it had lost its faithful art!
how the moments lengthened
into  the grind of sterile years!
how shadows had darkened
the lover's once-true heart!